


Daughter of Earth, Daughter of Sky

by estamir



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Seisen no Keifu
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-06
Updated: 2011-11-06
Packaged: 2017-10-25 18:07:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/273213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estamir/pseuds/estamir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The grudges between House Lenster and House Thracia run deep. For Altenna, caught in the middle, the conflict runs deeper than anyone can understand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Daughter of Earth, Daughter of Sky

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the fe_exchange on LiveJournal, for kittykatloren.

The landscape below her shot past at dizzying speed, trees and mountains becoming a blur of green and brown, but Altenna hardly noticed, urging her dragon to fly still faster. If she slowed down, she didn't trust herself not to turn back and go straight to Thracia and keep pleading for Arion to come with her, to call a truce, to do _something_ other than marshal his forces and wait to challenge Celice.

 _This is our fate._

If her fate was to gain one brother only to lose another, then fate be damned, she would _not_ —

Her dragon slowed, began a descent, even though she could scarcely remember guiding him into it. The tents of Celice's army came into view, people stopping and pointing, and for not the first time that day, Altenna was tempted to stop and fly away, away from these people she didn't know and back to those she did. Thracia was poor and rough and belligerent, but home was _home_ , and she couldn't help but think for a moment that it held more for her than this sea of unfamiliar faces. The thought lingered even as she finished speaking to Celice, projecting a composure she didn't feel in the slightest.

But as they exchanged a last round of pleasantries to end the conversation, she turned away and saw Leaf emerging from one of the tents a short distance away. His face lit up as he dashed forward with a cry of _Altenna!_ —

—and in that moment, she knew she could no more turn her back on him than she could give up on Arion.

This, too, felt like home.

*****

Celice looked as though he wanted to talk to her again, and some of the others seemed interested as well, but by some unspoken agreement, they all held back for that first night. House Lenster had first rights to its own daughter. She settled down by a smaller campfire that night with Leaf and Finn. Even Nanna smiled and excused herself and went to talk to her cousin.

Leaf talked as though someone had uncorked the bottle on years' worth of conversation—about Lenster, about his time on the run, about his own battle against the Empire, started nearly a year before he'd joined forces with Celice. He told her about the other retainers who hadn't continued south with them, about how thrilled Glade and Selphina would be to know that she was alive, about how he wished Dorias could have lived to find out. He told her about how much he owed to Finn—who nonchalantly brushed it aside with a humble _it was my duty_ , though the hint of fatherly pride in his eyes suggested duty was not his only motivation.

The fire was burning low by the time Leaf stopped to collect himself, and asked the question she was sure he'd wanted to ask all along.

Did she remember their parents?

The words nearly caught in her throat. Yes, she remembered. Not much, so little it had been easy to just dismiss it, until she had looked into his eyes and seen something of their father there again. Just images and warmth and fuzzy memories of a kind man and a laughing woman who had loved each other and their children more than words could say.

It felt inadequate as she said it, but the look in Leaf's eyes as he hugged his knees up to his chest and watched the fire die said that it was right, somehow, that even something vague and idealized was all he needed to hear right now. Maybe what he'd really wanted wasn't any new recollections of their parents—he'd surely had plenty of that from Finn, anyway.

Maybe he just wanted to be reassured that despite growing up a country and a culture apart, they still shared something irrefutable.

She didn't tell him about how even now, it was hard not to close her eyes and see that fuzzy memory of their father fade and give way for another father, a father who swung her around in the air and showed her the view from a dragon's back.

*****

And it continued that way each night, her dreams haunted by each of her families in turn. Her blood family grounded, calling to her and holding out their hands; the family she had known for as long as she could remember soaring above with the dragons. No matter which she ran to, she couldn't keep herself from looking back to the others, and she woke in the mornings feeling tense and unrested.

Leaf noticed, of course. He seemed determined to make up lost time, and though he didn't _ignore_ others in her favor, he certainly managed to cross paths with her on a constant basis. Every meeting came with a _how are you holding up?_ and an assurance that if she ever needed anything, he was there. From his fussing, one might almost think that he was the older sibling, but it was endearing, and she wasn't used to being the older one anyway.

Still, every now and then it did feel good to get away, and she was grateful for all the times Celice sent her to scout ahead—frequently, before they finished the campaign in Thracia, since a dragon rider would attract less attention in the skies than a pegasus. Once they moved on to Miletos, she found herself sharing the duty with Fee, and she was never quite sure if she was grateful for it or not. Having more time to rest up in camp was not unwelcome, and she was gradually warming to the others in the army. But the day never felt complete until she'd taken at least a brief flight and felt the wind in her hair.

And even as she grew more at home with Leaf and the others, she only felt more and more uneasy as they continued to press on, and there had still been no sign of Arion since he'd vanished back in Thracia. Rumors placed him with Yurius—a chilling thought, and one she preferred not to contemplate too deeply, but it was difficult _not_ to.

When she finally admitted her fears to Leaf, in one of those countless moments he checked up on her, he simply smiled. _Arion is still alive. That means there's still hope._

He wasn't much like Arion, she mused. Even at his most polite and poised, Leaf was still emotional, and while he made an earnest effort not to wear his heart on his sleeve, he was still easy to read, even with her inexperience at doing so. Arion wouldn't have smiled, wouldn't have spoken those words—might not have said anything, even; he was not unkind, but his kindness was subtler, and trying to find an overt sign of it was like trying to spot the currents in a still lake.

Yet despite the differences, both had been nothing but kind to her, in their own ways—and despite the grudges their bloodlines had long borne, both seemed to realize that the other made her happy. Arion had gone against their father to ensure that she'd have the chance to be reunited with Leaf. Leaf wanted to help her find Arion.

Her dreams were calm that night, for the first time since she'd learned the truth of her heritage. She flew with Arion, laughing and urging her mount higher than she'd ever dared in the waking world...and then landed to find Leaf waiting patiently to welcome her back.

Landing didn't mean she'd given up the sky. Flying didn't mean the earth would not be waiting for her.

Altenna slept well that night, and when she rose the next morning and met with Leaf over breakfast, she could tell from the look he gave her that he noticed the difference. _We'll find him,_ she said simply.

And Leaf smiled and swallowed the bite of food he was chewing on and said _of course we will._


End file.
